It Came In The Mail
by Final Hikari
Summary: 23/100 of the Genesis Rhapsodos x Minerva 100 Themes and kiriban for Saaf. Genesis returns from a mission in Wutai in the early morning but is quickly awoken by a delivery woman bringing him an unexpected package...with air holes...


Kiriban for SaafTheStud!

Final Hikari: Okay! This is the much-overdue kiriban for Saaf! X.X -drops to knees and begs for forgiveness- I'm sorry I took so long! Weird stuff came up and similar unpleasant happenings…I won't bore you all with details. -sweat drop-

Genesis: That wouldn't have happened if you weren't so darn lazy…

Final Hikari: Forgetful, too. Anyway, this doubles as the "cat" theme for the Genesis x Minerva 100 Themes. Two this year! :D I'm on fire!

Genesis: …Suuure. Whatever you say. -sarcasm-

Final Hikari: -.- Disclaim thy self.

Genesis: The Final Hikari doesn't own anything from the Compilation of Final Fantasy VII.

_It Came In The Mail_

Sunlight shone through the blinds that hung over the windows in the apartment of First Class SOLDIER Genesis Rhapsodos. His only acknowledgment of it was to pull the sheets over his head. It wasn't _supposed_ to be seven AM. It should have been eleven PM! At least that was what he thought it was in Wutai at that very moment…

He'd received his promotion to First Class in the previous year while fighting on the front lines in Wutai. In response, they took to sending him around the continent to do more complex and difficult missions. A lot of the early ones involved eliminating Wutai assassins before they reached their targets. Then they decided because such missions looked more heroic to the society, they should give them to Sephiroth.

…Which resulted in a three month stay for Genesis at the Wutaiian front lines, and, upon his return, extreme jet lag. His body insisted it was the middle of the night, but the blaring sun outside had different ideas. He'd arrived in Midgar at five AM and had retired to his apartment by six.

But, by then, the sun was up. _Damn that Amaterasu of Wutaiian worship… Good for nothing sun goddess…_Besides, the goddess of LOVELESS was the only one for him; though if he ever voiced such a thought, his fangirls would most certainly spam him for being blasphemous.

Lost in a pleasant, half-conscious dream of the lovely Goddess of the Lifestream herself, a rapid knocking on the front door shook him awake. He groaned and sat up deliriously, hoping it would stop and the person would go away.

No such luck.

Instead, they realized the apartment had a doorbell, and began to ring repeatedly. Cursing Amaterasu and whoever was at his door, he tumbled out of bed and stumbled out of his room. He decided not to look in the mirror and simply hope it wasn't one of his fangirls armed with a camera; he was a glaring mess.

He reached the door and pulled it open irritably, ready to yell at whoever had the audacity to bother him at such an hour. Part of him expected either Angeal or Zack, but stopped when he saw it was a delivery woman.

A rather creepy, old, and saggy woman wearing knee boots that couldn't have been part of her company's uniform specifications. There was a pin clipped to the vest of her uniform that read "Tax Meat" in large red letters. A pair of dark sunglasses rested on her head, completing the look of an old hag suffering a midlife crisis. She held a clipboard out to him dully.

"Sign here."

"For what?" Genesis asked, squinting suspiciously.

She held a large, heavy looking white box in her left hand and placed it gently on the floor. Genesis eyed it warily, wearing a slight frown. _Are those…air holes? _He hadn't been able to order anything lately due to the terrible internet connection in war-torn Wutai; it must have been something from a fangirl, or perhaps one of his underlings.

_That has to be it. Somebody heard of my return and sent a gift. Hope it's not another stink bomb from that crazy doctor… _He inwardly hoped whatever was inside contained sugar or caffeine; he certainly needed it.

_…But why would there be air holes?_

"Who is it from? Genesis questioned as he thoughtlessly took the clipboard and pen from her. _Can't be the doctor… This is a different address from last time. Unless she has a fangirl for a sister who keeps track of me like the CIA._ He paused, then shook his head. _CIA? Now I'm making up useless government agencies. I really need more sleep…_

"No return address," she informed him. "As a six-hour delivery service, we are obliged to warn you to handle the package with caution and tend to immediately. Fragile products like these can't sit in a truck or an office after all."

Genesis signed his name heedlessly, too sleep deprived to wonder what kind of 'fragile product' _couldn't_ sit on a shelf for a few hours. "I think I might know who it's from after all," Genesis remarked as he handed the clipboard back to her.

Her expression darkened and she looked at him skeptically. "Genesis Rhapsodos? You?"

"The one and only," he replied smugly.

She glanced at his signature, and this time, gave him a once-over before she took a cautious step back.

"I have two fan clubs, you know… it can be hard to keep up with since I get so much in the mail, but women just can't seem to resist me." _Well, except for that stupid doctor, _he thought sourly.

"Right…," the woman trailed off, looking for the nearest exit. She lifted the package and dumped it into his arms brusquely. A slight noise came from within the box, but Genesis was too distracted to fully notice it. "Thank you for using the Six Hour Pet Delivery Service and enjoy your new animal."

By the time she finished, she had turned around and was already halfway down the hall. His grip on the package nearly slipped in shock, but he quickly held on. Genesis' eyes widened and he gaped momentarily as the creature within the box meowed in objection to being held lopsided.

"My new _what?!_" he yelled after the woman as she disappeared down the stairs.

He stared at the box, slightly panicked. He couldn't have a cat! They needed constant attention and provisions, didn't they? His mind spun, inwardly thinking of all the responsibilities of a pet owner. He had a gerbil once as a child, but his parents had resorted to hiring a full time employee to tend to it when he didn't have time or simply forgot.

His eye twitched slightly as he remembered when they threatened to take it away from him unless he took care of it himself. His response was to pay the gerbil-sitter himself, thus silencing the argument, although not in the way they wanted.

Then another thought occurred him.

_Angeal's puppy is going to devour the poor thing!_

_I have to return it to the delivery woman! I can't have a pet! Not a cat, puppy, or gerbil! _ His mind was made up; he had to follow the woman before she drove away and return the kitten inside to whoever sent it. After all, he reasoned with a weary smirk, he couldn't have any problem catching up with a fat, middle-aged woman waddling down the stairs.

He took a step before his smirk screeched to a halt, not unlike his feet.

There was no…return address.

_Oh, Goddess! Have mercy upon me! I'll never curse your Wutaiian cousin again…_

He turned around and retreated back into his apartment, kicking the door closed behind him. He gently placed the box on his coffee table, momentarily glancing at the mirror on the wall. His frown deepened slightly; perhaps it wasn't a surprise she'd taken him to be some sort of crazy person claiming to be himself.

His clothes were rumpled and were torn in several places, and one sleeve was missing on the un-ridged long-sleeved shirt he substituted for his SOLDIER uniform. There were dark circles beneath his eyes, his hair was a mess, and it seemed to be shifting into the dreaded _center part_ instead of his signature _side part._ Moreover, a noticeable scar sat innocently on his neck.

He let his head his the table. He had to call upon the Director of Red Leather looking like _that?_ He had to brave the director's twisted siblings in such a deplorable condition? He shuddered violently at the idea. The older homosexual brother would certainly attempt groping him while the younger sister would burn his LOVELESS, cut his hair off, verbally harass him, and threaten _far_ worse if he tried to stick up for himself. _Just like that doctor from the mail… Are they the same? _He mentally shook his head. _Nah…_

And he had to deal with it all on two hours of sleep. He grimaced as his head began to ache painfully and the cat in the box meowed once more. One of the many fangirls in Red Leather had to be behind the kitten; the director oversaw all the club's events and kept an eye on what the members did, so she'd probably know who the culprit was…

…But her siblings were too terrifying to brave on such short notice. He had to find a different option.

Genesis took a deep breath and gave the mewing box a stern look. He poked his finger through one of the many air holes. A soft, furry paw closed around his fingertip and poked its tiny claws gently against his skin. It wasn't hard enough to hurt to break the skin, but enough to make him recoil in surprise.

He peeled the tape off the top of the box and unfolded the cardboard flaps. He hesitated before lifting the final two to reveal the little being that awaited him inside. A small, gray kitten with bright emerald eyes sat patiently atop the cushion in the box.

It stared up at him and meowed cheerfully. At least he thought it was cheerfully; it had very emotional eyes, but it could have been the sleep deprivation causing him to interpret an animal's squeaks with feeling. He rested his hands on the corners of the box and it jumped up, putting its paws besides his human equivalent and sniffing his fingers.

It proceeded to meow again and cuddle his hand affectionately. Casting it a still slightly guarded look, he examined the soft, warm, and purring creature. _Are they supposed to purr that loudly? It sounds like a motor!_

"Well, maybe it isn't a demon kitty after all," he mused, gently lifting it out and placing it on his leather couch. "But what am I supposed to _do_ with a cat? Angeal has a fetish for dogs but he would know what to feed it and whatnot until I can find out who sent it to me…"

The kitten stared at him inquisitively before walking around the sofa to sniff its new environment. Genesis returned the stare evenly before another thought occurred to him. "Good Goddess, why am I talking to a cat? I might as well be talking to myself…and that's the second sign of insanity!" _Voices in my head is the first… _

The kitten meowed at him, almost as though it were saying he was talking to it and not just himself. He inwardly noticed the collar it wore was pink and the bow tied to it was red. Perhaps it meant the creature was female? _…Are female cats as temperamental and high maintenance as __**real**__ women?_

The idea made him shudder a second time.

It was definitely time to call Angeal.

Genesis trudged to his room to retrieve his cell phone. He was fairly sure he'd remembered to put the battery on charge…_ If only my energy reserves could be replenished so easily…_ He hardly noticed when the kitten hopped off the couch and followed him into his room. He approached the nightstand and unplugged his phone, carelessly leaving the cord atop the stand.

He sat down on the edge of his bed and turned the phone on, wincing at the abundance of spam mail. There was so much of it, the screen locked up as it struggled to load completely. He drummed his fingers impatiently, distracted when the cord was suddenly pulled off his nightstand and landed on the floor. He looked to where it was plugged in to see the gray kitten, seated beside the outlet, looking up at him innocently with its paw on his charge cord.

"Well, aren't you a troublemaker…?" he mumbled, lifting the cat up and putting it on his bed. He dialed Angeal's number as soon as the inbox, containing nearly a thousand messages, loaded. It rang three painstakingly long times before his childhood friend _finally _picked up.

"Angeal!" Genesis exclaimed, "I need _help!_"

"…You've only been in Midgar for a few hours, what could you have possibly done_ already?_"

"I didn't do anything!" Genesis retorted, "Someone sent me a cat! And it keeps following me around, it won't stop _staring _at me, and now it's trying to hid under a sheet. …But it's gray and completely visible under a white sheet…"

Angeal ignored the random observation. He'd known Genesis since they were children, but did he truly think a kitten had enough intelligence to think of its visibility beneath a sheet? "Good for you; it's probably a good lesson for you to learn how to take care of a living being."

"I'm _locating_ the sender. Even though it is rather innocent looking…," Genesis grumbled. "But what do I do with it until then?"

"Well," Angeal began, in a tone that reflected the beginning of a lecture, "you need to buy it some cat food. It shouldn't eat human food, _especially_ sweet things. It'll also need a specific place to sleep and a litter box. Is it trained?"

Genesis stared at the kitten burrowing into his sheets. "Is it _what?_"

Angeal paused. "Is it old enough to be litter trained?"

"I don't know!" Genesis groaned. "Are you saying it's going to crap on my pillow?!"

Angeal sighed heavily. "Why don't you bring it over to my apartment? I'll give it some of the food I buy for the strays."

Genesis' frown returned, as he was momentarily distracted, something that happened quite a lot. "I thought you liked dogs, why would you feed stray cats? And will your puppy chase it if I bring it over?"

A small _thump_ vibrated from the phone; Angeal was probably smacking his head on something. "Genesis, real dogs chase cats. Not Zack. He's on a mission out of Midgar today, anyway."

"Fine. Can I put it back in the box it came in to transport it?"

"Does it have air holes and a comfortable place for it to sit?"

"I…think so?"

"Well, if you have to, that's better than just carrying it around. But after this, transport him or her in a proper cat carrier. Preferably with something soft inside."

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Genesis Rhapsodos, now in full uniform, fidgeted uncomfortably in the elevator as he stared dismally at the interminably slow ascent. It wasn't the weight nor the size of the awkward box that was making him impatient; it was the saddened, pathetic mewing of the kitten within.

Although, he had come to a conclusion: the kitten had to be female. The pink collar was rather telling, but he'd made the assumption from a different fact. He felt his reasoning was very solid, for the only other earthly being that could perplex and tire him so was a woman.

Though he'd quickly showered and changed into a new uniform, he doubted his physical appearance was much improved. The stubborn scar on his neck had yet to fade, the circles beneath his eyes remained glaringly obvious, and his hair still refused to cooperate. The likelihood of him confronting Red Leather was decreasing at a quick rate, certainly quicker than the elevator anyhow.

He tapped his foot and cursed when the feline let out a particularly displeased meow. Hardly a moment later the door opened, and he breezed past the attractive, young secretaries that waited at the door. They stumbled out of his way, expressions surprised at the usually smooth-talking SOLDIER acting so 'uncharacteristic,' though they probably had no idea of his true hotheaded colors.

Although his favorite color, reflected by his coat and sword, should have tipped them off long ago.

He hurried down several busy hallways, getting a few odd looks due to his very vocal package, and had to ascend two flights of stairs, go down another hall, and finally _descend_ three more flights of stairs before reaching the floor where Angeal's nursery was located. He pressed the doorbell with his elbow and waited intolerantly during the few seconds it took his childhood friend to get to the door.

"It's about _time!_" Genesis complained as the door was opened.

Angeal shook his head slightly but didn't comment, clearly unsurprised. "Good morning," he greeted conversationally.

Genesis breezed into the kitchen and set the box down on the previously sterile table. A slight frown appeared on Angeal's expression, but again he didn't comment and Genesis was by far more concerned with the kitten in the box than the sanitation of Angeal's very neat kitchen.

The kitchen was in a state similar to the rest of the house; the vision of clean perfection. The appliances were spotless and placed in orderly lines on the counter, the refrigerator was free of magnets or clutter, and even the floor was free of grime in the tiny, almost unreachable cracks where the tiles connected.

However, there had been one aspect of Angeal's apartment's kitchen - along with the rest of his home - that always concerned Genesis. It was the presence of plants on every available windowsill and table. Most were just green plants without flowers or vegetable producing ones. There was also a rather large, uncontrolled fruit tree growing in Angeal's bedroom, but he had long ago given up on questioning its presence.

It was a wonder no ants or other foul insects the plants drew didn't end up in the SOLDIER's food. There was a windowsill over each of the counters that bore greenery and a thick shelf on the opposite side of the room placed rather inconveniently at eye level with pepper and strawberry plants.

He'd never questioned the combination. He didn't want to know the unimaginably long explanation behind it.

The aspect of that shelf that was particularly perplexing was the height; though Angeal, much like Genesis, didn't spend much time in his apartment, he never seemed to make the mistake of walking into the shelf when tired or unable to discern its shape in the dark. It could be that he merely would never _admit_ to it, but Genesis doubted that.

Angeal took the seat at the table across from his friend, expression calm as Genesis hurriedly undid the flaps. He lifted the kitten out and pushed the box to the floor before placing it down on the table. Angeal's wince returned momentarily but faded when it squeaked and walked over to him.

"Are you really going to locate the sender?" he asked dryly, stroking the small creature's head as it purred loudly.

Genesis frowned at it guiltily. "I think the paperwork said it came from a shelter…"

"There's the chance it could be put to sleep if the sender couldn't keep it and had to return it there," Angeal explained knowingly. "Or they might have sent it to you because they figured a cushy SOLDIER paycheck could afford to take care of it."

Genesis sighed as it walked over to him with a rather expectant look. "Who do you pay to look after your plants when you're away? Would they look after a cat?"

"I have Zack water and trim my plants when I'm on long trips. If he's unavailable, Kunsel will substitute."

"I can't have that mongrel near a cat. He'll chase it up a tree."

Angeal shook his head. "First of all, you grew up watching too many cartoons. Second, Zack is _human, _and third, it'd be staying at your apartment, not mine, so there wouldn't be any trees for it climb anyway."

"Whatever. Who could I hire to feed it, play with it, and whatnot when I'm away?"

"How about one of your fangirls?" Angeal suggested conversationally. "I'm sure you could find a nice, sane one that wouldn't steal stuff out of your apartment."

A thoughtful, if not somewhat malevolent, expression crossed the slightly younger SOLDIER's expression as he absentmindedly scratched behind the kitten's ears.

"You could find one that likes cats and, for reasons unknown, likes you, who might even do it for very little or free. You could post a bulletin in Red Leather's online forums…you'll have a hundred fangirls begging you to pick them."

"That's a brilliant idea!" Genesis exclaimed triumphantly. "And if I flirt with them a bit, the thought of payment won't even cross their minds.

"Genesis, that's not what I-"

"Wait," Genesis interjected, "what if that creepy fanboy, the director's brother, answers the ad?"

"…Ignore him?" Angeal suggested blankly, silently wondering why such a simple answer never occurred to Genesis, as was reflected by the look on his face.

"I suppose that would work," Genesis mumbled. "But wait! What if it's that crazy doctor who sent me that hate mail and the stink bomb? What if I pick her by chance? She'll burn the entire building to the ground!"

Angeal stared at him. "You still haven't figured out who she is by now?" When Genesis shook his head, Angeal muttered, "No wonder she thinks you're an idiot."

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"I thought so," Genesis replied grumpily, lifting the little cat up. It was small enough to fit in one of his gloved hands. It squeaked in objection to being moved as he examined the ribbon around its neck. "I suppose it's female?"

"Or it's like Mark," Angeal remarked, unable to resist the joke.

Genesis glared at him in response. "My cat is perfectly heterosexual. She will grow into a fine, young lady with many tomcats hanging around the door of my apartment. I'll have to make sure the help doesn't let any of them in."

Angeal stared for a long moment, inwardly deciding to dismiss the unrealistic comparisons as a result of sleep deprivation. The sleep deprived SOLDIER himself seemed blissfully aware of how preposterous what he was saying truly was.

"Why not just have it fixed?"

"What woman would want to be sterilized at such a young age?" Genesis retorted stubbornly.

Angeal rubbed his forehead, slightly exasperated. "It's a _cat._ There are an overabundance of strays, you should get it fixed. Some pounds demand the animal be fixed in cities like Midgar," he explained reasonably.

Genesis, however, was adjusting the kitten's bow, which had become slightly lopsided, after he placed her down on the table. She proceeded to lick her paw and clean her face elegantly, closing her eyes periodically. They were bright, royal emerald in color. He smiled slightly; they were remarkably similar to those the goddess was often depicted with.

Angeal realized Genesis wasn't paying the slightest attention to what he was saying and trailed off in mid sentence. He clapped his hands together, causing Genesis and the kitten to look up in almost perfect unison. "What are you going to name her?"

"Hmm," Genesis mumbled thoughtfully, watching as the kitten returned to washing her face after casting Angeal a rather reproachful look. "She has the eyes of the goddess. I shall name her Minerva."

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Final Hikari: -pours over notebook working on 5,500 kiriban for Kojika, talking to notebook quietly-

Genesis: …-pokes-

Final Hikari: -mumbling sentences as she writes-

Minerva: …Humans. -rolls eyes-

Dr. Meh: Watch it, you fraudulent- -voice is muffled by the power of the Authoress-

Final Hikari: -looks up and clears throat- Hope you like it, Saaf! I fear the end might have felt bit rushed, but I think this came out pretty good! And, on the off case anyone realized, the delivery woman was a _total_ parody of Chrysie Hynde. -runs from a group of rabid Hynde fans- She does nothing but plagiarize Ray Davies, I tell you! That awful "Boots of Chinese Plastic" is a cheap rip off of "Aggravation" by The Kinks! She's no better than that awful Joost who brutally stole Gackt's songs! -is attacked by the aforementioned group of fans-

Dr. Meh: -reclaims voice by the power of the Editor- What's there to steal?

Final Hikari: Behave! Or I'll fire you! Or swat you for the CIA bit, that was awkward to read. XD Oh, and as for my own comments, especially toward the end. I meant everything humorously, so please don't take offense. :)

Genesis: -uninterested stare- So, when's the next kiriban on DeviantART? -pokes again-

Final Hikari: 6,000 hits. I do them every thousand normally, but I missed 5,000, prompting 5,500 to be for the kiriban. XD

Genesis: -calculates- That means it'll come up before the end of the summer.

Dr. Meh: Ah, he can do math! -runs away before she's fired-

Final Hikari: -pointedly ignores the Doctor- I hope so! It'll make things a lot easier if it does. Good luck catching it, my loyal kiriban seekers! :D Now excuse me, I've gotta go Editor Hunting… -troops off with a stolen laser scythe-


End file.
